


what a gift it is to breathe

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (cel is tired and barnes supports them: the fic), (of episode 178), Canon Compliant, Coda, Comfort, Coping, Other, Sleepy Cuddles, emotional exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Barnes finds Cel on the roof.
Relationships: Commander James Barnes/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	what a gift it is to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> i just want someone to comfort cel!!! what the fuck!!!!!! they look so tired who the fuck do i have to pay to give them a fucking hug!!!!!
> 
> also literally i will just continue to write celbarnes this is who i am as a person now ig. also this is absolutely noot’s cel and kim’s barnes in terms of how i picture them! i’m so fucking funny i originally had “you can read this as shippy or not!” and then i got to the end and like NEVERMIND LMAO THEYRE CRUSHING HARD
> 
> god im still not sure if barnes is ic or not fjwkdjeodjekw oh well here i am anyway. i rewrote this three times before i actually didn’t hate it
> 
> no joke i put on stille nacht by mannheim steamroller on repeat as i wrote this fnskdnsjdn

Cel is tired. They’ve been tired for a while, really, ever since they’d gotten on the ship. It’s just been a mess of things - having to keep Amelia from going spare, having to keep the engine going, having to keep the entire  _ thing _ from falling apart, dealing with the aurora nonsense and trying to battle through that guilt to save their friends, and then the crash, where everything slowed down too much too fast, and now they’re here, alone. Sat on a rooftop. In the darkness. Waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop.

“We still need to know about the price,” they mutter under their breath. Sohra hadn’t told any of them what it might be, just told them not to worry and to have a night’s rest and they could speak about it in the morning. “I don’t think it’s going to be anything too extreme - at least, I hope not. It’s definitely not  _ urgent,  _ because Sohra would have told us straightaway. Gods, I wish I could remember the stories mum told me. I - she  _ must  _ have mentioned them at one point, right? Like, just,  _ one  _ time, come on, Cel,  _ think.  _ You’ve heard stories about these people  _ forever,  _ there should be  _ something  _ in there about the price for resurrection… there  _ has  _ to be.”

They’re not a pessimist. They never have been, not even when their village was burning down around them, not even when they were trekking all alone across America, and not even when their home was being attacked on all sides by Shoin’s goons. Every single time, they’d tried to find the bright spot, and sometimes the bright spot was all they’d had as houses burned around them and as blood stained their hands. 

Sure, they weren’t always a sunny  _ optimist -  _ that had come more with time. Cel’s… old. Not old for an elf, not too old for a half-elf, even, but they’ve lived longer than the rest of the party, and they’ve seen so much more of the world that they, well. Forget. That other people haven’t.

They almost wish that they were Zolf or Azu, that this was the first time they’d ever seen or even heard of this. That they could ride the wave of incredulity and amazement and emotional exhaustion to it’s edge and then pass out without needing to think much more about it. They immediately feel bad for thinking that; Zolf had had a veritable panic attack after Skraak had walked off, and Azu had been sobbing all over Carter for a few hours. 

“I should have checked in on Skraak,” they realise, and chew on the inside of their lip. “He seemed to be doing better, almost? As - as well as they  _ could  _ be, I guess. I should talk to them. He might - I mean, the kobolds have all already been through so  _ much,  _ this - this shouldn’t have happened to them. I - there has to be something we can do. If there’s a price that needs to be paid, I’ll pay it, I don’t care, I won’t - no one else should need to do that.”

The feeling in their chest, the waiting for the other shoe to drop… Cel doesn’t like it. They don’t  _ like  _ feeling like something bad is coming, like something is just waiting to drag everything down again. 

They’re too tired to cry. Too tired to do anything, sleep  _ included,  _ and, well. That’s just the nature of adrenaline crashes, sometimes. To have a  _ bone  _ deep exhaustion that they don’t know how to make go away.

“It will be okay,” they mumble. “Carter and Wilde and Sassraa all came back, and Meerk is happy where they are, and he’s making loud noises, and that’s good. I can talk to Skraak tomorrow again. They just needed some time to think about all of this. And. We can figure it out! It will all be. Figured. Figured out. Yeah. We’ll need to find some way to keep the three of them colder than the rest of us - of course, that’s if this isn’t a temporary thing. I suppose it’s good that we’re in the Northern Wastes, then, since it’s  _ always  _ cold here. Maybe I can fashion a… what would be the  _ opposite  _ of a steam room…”

They fall silent as they hear the sound of faint footsteps coming into the room that they’d been assigned. The light inside flicks on. It shines through the window, spilling out over the roof and casting down onto the roughshod path below. There are a few moments of nothing, and then the window creaks open quietly. 

Cel pulls their knees up to their chest and rests their head on their knees. They stare out across the city as Barnes comes and sits beside them, close enough that their shoulders brush. The roof creaks a bit under the added weight, but it holds steady and doesn’t seem like it’s going to collapse. Cel chooses not to bring it up - both because they don’t want to go back inside and because they don’t want  _ Barnes  _ to go inside, either. 

He settles back against the wall, scooting a bit closer to Cel. “S’cold out,” he says, and hands them a scarf. “Thought you could use this.”

Cel takes him from him with a quiet, “thank you,” and holds it in their hands. It’s heavy and woollen, a deep red that stands in stark contrast against the white of the snow around them. They recognise it as Barnes’ and turn toward him, tilting their head in confusion.

“Don’t you need this?” they ask, but Barnes just shrugs.

“When you’ve spent as much time on the sea as I have, you sort of just get used to it, right?” Barnes says. “Zolf’s the same. Like, it’s  _ cold  _ and all, but you don’t really feel it after a while. You, er. Acclimate.”

“Oh,” Cel says, and Barnes nods. 

“Go on, then,” he says, and Cel wraps the scarf around their neck. It’s warm and thick and cozy and mostly covers their mouth, and it smells like Barnes. They breathe deeply, comforted, and end up leaning even more against him, watching the stars above as they shine. 

Barnes copies Cel’s position eventually, pulling his knees up to his chest and letting his arms cross atop them. They sit there in a silent vigil; they’ve learned how to be comfortable in the silence together. Well - usually comfortable in the silence broken only by Carter’s grousing in the background.

They don’t know how long they sit there, slowly starting to shiver in the snow, with Barnes a steady presence at their side. The lights across the city slowly blink off, fires being doused slowly and intermittently. It would be peaceful in any other scenario - it  _ feels  _ peaceful even now, but they’re too tired for it to be completely restful. 

Still. Having Barnes here helps. Reminds Cel that they aren’t alone in it, that there’s someone that they can lean on.

The night presses on. They’re like silent guardians in the cold, breaths coming out in warm puffs of air as the snow begins to fall all around them. A borealis is moving in, twisting greens and blues and yellows that streak across the night sky. Cel thinks about the rope and the tankard and smiles, wistful. 

“You look exhausted,” Barnes eventually says, gently nudging Cel’s shoulder. They give a quiet laugh, too tired to care about masking how burnt out they are. Thankfully, it’s just Barnes, and Cel trusts him enough to drop the mask.

“Been a long day, you know?” they murmur, and shift in their spot, letting their head fall down to rest atop his shoulder. It’s solid and steady and warm, and Cel thinks maybe they can fall asleep here. 

“Been a long few days, really, when I come to think of it,” Barnes says, and Cel nods in agreement.

“A long few days. Yeah,” they say, a bit absently. Barnes doesn’t seem to pick up on it - or if he does, he doesn’t say anything. 

They go back to sitting in silence for a moment, and then Cel sighs and sits up, turning so that they’re facing Barnes. “You know when things get… loud?” they say. “In your head? Like your thoughts are swirling around and around and you can’t make them out?”

Barnes’ forehead scrunches together as he thinks for a moment, but eventually he shakes his head. “Not really. Head’s kind of empty, if I’m being honest.”

“No, it’s not,” Cel say, feeling offended on his behalf, and Barnes just shakes his head again.

“No, no, I mean… just… everything’s always been proper straightforward for me. Not much, er. Not much rattling about, yeah? S’why I joined up in the first place. Easy to follow orders, harder to give them, but. The structure, the rigidity… didn’t really have much to consider before the blue veins, and when those came up, it wasn’t much of a consideration, really. You see someone hurting others, giving orders that hurt others…” Barnes shrugs. “Not really a difficult choice. Things are a bit more complicated now, but. I still believe in what we’re doing. I dunno.”

“...You’re a good man, Barnes,” Cel says, and Barnes chuckles a bit. They lean forward and cup his cheek in their hand. “Stop laughing! I mean it. You just… it’s nice, you know.”

“Oh. Thanks, then,” Barnes says, and leans back against the wall. Cel follows suit, position matching his, and stares out over the city. “What were you going to say?” 

Cel swallows. “Just… usually, my head gets loud. Crowded. And sometimes doing things helps! Doing things helps me focus, helps me push away the stuff that’s causing me to crash a bit. And sometimes… sometimes it  _ doesn’t,  _ and I just need to sit in it? A bit? But I’m… I’m  _ used  _ to the noise. I like the noise! Sometimes it gets to be a bit  _ much,  _ but… I don’t mind it. I know that - most people are different. They don’t like the noise, because it’s too loud or too much, but I… I don’t know. I kind of like the chaos of it, I suppose.

“It’s my head getting quiet that’s doing me in,” Cel confesses, and buries their head in their arms. “I can’t… I can’t  _ think  _ when it’s this quiet, sometimes. And I don’t know what to  _ do.” _

They press their lips together tightly; Barnes’ scarf provides a barrier from the outside world, and they think that maybe they could get to sleep like this. Surrounded by warmth, Barnes at their side… it might work. Would at least work better than being alone in the cold and trying to make their brain busy again. 

“Can I help?” Barnes asks, and Cel’s struck once more by how…  _ good _ he is. How genuine. “With the whole quiet thing, I mean. Zolf told me I was good for putting people to sleep, once. Just need to start talking about shipping and trade, and everyone’s nodding off within seconds. Got a lot to say, I suppose.”

Cel pulls their head up and smiles at him. They turn a bit and lean against him, letting their head drop against his shoulder again. “You’re already helping. But I might take you up on those trade manifests someday - it’s been a while since I’ve talked about home.”

Barnes’ hand comes up and starts playing with the hair over their ear. His hand scrapes against a small dusting of Cel’s stubble; they’ll need to shave again soon, but for now, they just let the calming, rhythmic motion lull them into a state of content exhaustion.

The exhaustion isn’t new. The contentment is.

They sit out there for a while longer. Cel watches the sky above, and thinks that maybe, one day, they’ll swap stories with Barnes about the constellations and the different legends that they have for the stars. 

Cel starts to drift a bit, going in and out of consciousness, and when they come back to themselves what might be minutes or hours later, they’re shivering. They sit up a bit; the scarf is keeping their neck warm, but their fingers are chilled and even Barnes looks like the cold is getting to him.

“Should we go back in?” Cel asks, wrapping their arms around their abdomen to try and block the cold. 

Barnes looks at them for a second. “Do you want to?” he asks, and they glance toward the window. 

They don’t really, is the thing. Even if Barnes went with them. The house is so big and quiet, and out here they can hear the animals in the distance, listen to the giant bear they’re riding on make it’s way around the forest. But it’s so cold - Cel knows they probably should, or at least  _ Barnes  _ should, but they don’t know how to explain why they want to stay out here. 

They end up not needing to. Barnes takes one look at their face and nods, extricating his arm from around Cel’s back. 

“Wait here,” he says, and drops a careful, absent kiss into their hair before crawling in back through the window. Cel listens as he rummages around for a bit, clearly looking for something, and then his head pops back out of the window. He climbs back out onto the roof, carrying a massive blanket, and sits back down next to Cel. “Here,” he says, and hands one end to Cel. “Wrap this around your shoulder.”

Cel takes the blanket and does so, tugging it around themselves. It must be magically heated, or something, because it immediately seems to block out the chill and melt the snow against them. Barnes does the same on the other side, and in no time they’re bundled together, curled up against each other on the flat part of the roof. Cel shifts a bit so that their legs are intertwined with Barnes’, calves pressing against each other. 

Barnes wraps his arm around their waist, a weight that Cel finds comforting. They let out a content sigh as they relax against his chest.

“I can take this shift,” Barnes says, sounding as sleepy as Cel feels. “If that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not… good with the whole emotions thing, but I can just  _ be  _ here. If you want me.”

Cel doesn’t know what to say to that. No one’s ever offered to just… sit there with them and  _ be.  _ That’s - it’s always been unspoken, if anything, and there’s just  _ something  _ about hearing it said aloud, so casually, as though it’s this easy. 

Maybe it is. Maybe it  _ can  _ be. 

“I do,” they say, and the words drip from their lips like a confession. 

“Then I’ll be here,” Barnes says, and it’s as simple as that. Cel glances up at him; his eyes are closed and his arm is wrapped around their shoulder, and he looks so completely at peace with the world around him. They wonder if maybe, for him, it can be as simple as that. To just… not overthink things, and let them be. To declare that you’ll stay without thinking of the consequences or having to second guess things. 

“Thank you,” they whisper, because they don’t completely know how to deal with the enormity or the simplicity of the gesture. 

Barnes doesn’t say anything in response, and Cel lets their eyes slip shut as the exhaustion permeating every bone in their body slowly pulls them into a deep sleep.

(They’ll wake up in a pile in the morning, thankfully having not fallen off the roof. Cel will wake first and realise that, at some point during the night, Barnes ended up with his arms wrapped around their waist and face digging into their neck. They’ll look down at him with a slight grin on their face and trace the lines of his face with their finger, before deciding to get a few more hours in themselves. 

They quiet won’t feel as oppressive, either.)

**Author's Note:**

> idk if architecture works like this idrc tho sorry historical accuracy you can’t catch me this time!!


End file.
